


Shameful

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dark, Gender Issues, Homelessness, M/M, Prostitution, Rentboys, Sex Work, dark themes, sensitive topics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-24 14:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20908922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Severus didn't even get on the train back to the slums he'd been kicked out of, he had more of a chance in Hogsmeade, being homeless, the wizarding kind wasn't as harsh to those without shelter.But he isn't alone in his working boy ways, apparently, not when an equally desperate and poor Remus Lupin stumbles upon him in the Hogsmeade train station.-- Tags will be updated --





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Harry Potter or anything to do with it.  
I just enjoy fucking the characters up lmao
> 
> I'm autistic and have ADHD/Dyslexia and have never finished a fanfic so dont get your hopes up to much lmao.
> 
> the more comments this gets, the more motivation for a new chapter I have.

The war getting darker with each passing hour, there wasn’t any way Severus was going to get a job as a scrawny muggle raised half breed. He hated himself even more than he thought was possible as the hours rolled by as he stood on the chilly street hour outside of the Hogshead. Someone was bound to stumble out and feel an urge, an animalistic urge, as all men do, and look to the nearest thing to relieve it, which would hopefully be him (at a price, of course.) 

Perhaps he simply was too ugly? Too repulsive, too boney and disgusting? Severus wouldn’t be shocked, he’d come to terms with his odd looks at an early age, the first time anyone had made comments about his overly large nose, limbs too long, body too thin, that had been when he knew he wasn’t the untraditional beauty his mother tried to depicture him as.

The slam of the pub’s doors sounded in the icy evening air as an old drunken wizard made his way down the road, one foot in front of the other. He wasn’t bad looking but any charm the man had was washed away by the awful smell of ale that reeked from him. He smelt like Severus’s father had, the musk of yeast thick on the _Johns_ clothing.

Severus shuffled forward, his body partially revealed in the rudy orange light from the streetlamp, his presence made aware to the drunk.

The man paused and peering up at the small figure that loomed half in the darkness, as if afraid to be properly seen. The beer bottle slipped from his thick, grubby, paw-like hands and clinked as it hit the gravel path, rolling downhill. “_Boy_,” The man slurred, pulling a bag of coins from his pocket.

Severus lingered; what a dehumanizing word _boy_ was. Nevertheless, that was his new working title, after all, _Call Boy_. He approached anyway. Severus had his long, black hair in a braid, a fringe left to try and hide his crooked face. He knew the men preferred the long hair, as if, maybe, if he acted more feminine, it would relieve them from the sin of knowing they’d be with a man?

Severus was, in nature, a very feminine person. Being androgynous was his talent, being able to confuse those upon his gender, although it could cause unwanted attention from the more traditionally muggle folk of their wizarding community, however, the gender binary was very much destroyed by purebloods and their elite ways. Their fixation on blood had disregarded the usual gender roles that muggle society thrive off of. Severus didn’t mind that at all, and on his darkest, more isolated days, he craved to be locked up house husband, simply so he wouldn’t be in charge of his own fucked up life for once.

Once in arms reach, the_ John_ grabbed Severus by the collar of his thin robes and shoved the bag of coins into the lad's pockets. The nameless bloke was rough, manhandling Severus into a nearby alleyway and up against the walls. “_Sobe_r me, eh. Wouldn’t--” He stumbled over his words with a growl, “He-he wouldn’t do this. In an alleyway, _dirty_, it is.” He grunted, both their trousers around their ankles. The man made a noise of disgust as he licked his finger and roughly shoved it inside Severus.

_Saliva was not a good lube_, Severus had discovered, these past few months, but he bit down on his lip and kept quiet, apart from forcing out a sweet sound, which the man replied with another groan.

Another word Severus hated was _dirty_. It was an awful word, such _shame_ around it, the word shame was dirty in itself, but there was a long list of things Severus hated and he could go from them all night but instead, he had a man go through him instead.

They fucked in the darkness of the alleyway, none of the light of the full moon would reach them in this deep, _dirty, shameful_ backstreet as a man came inside a _boy_. It was very, very early in the morning when the man finally got off Severus, pulling out as cum oozed from a stretched, sore hole. The John left, sobering up, and leaving the scene of his crime, as Severus cleaned himself up with a quick charm that got rid of the smell and the sensation of gooeyness. He hadn’t come, but his father had always said there was no way to get pleasure out of work, other than cash in hand.

Severus managed to make his way to the Hogsmeade train station, using the alleyways he worked in as cover, the cover of shadows as good as an invisibility cloak. The train station had been his home since the end of Hogwarts, sleeping roughly on the benches on the emptiness platforms. Nobody used the train station, unless it was students of Hogwarts entering or leaving, otherwise the place was dead, thanks to the inventions of floo’s and apparation. 

He curled up on one of the old iron benches, his back angry at him for another rough night, as he could feel the flu creeping its way into his bones as the coldness swallowed him up, his thin cloak doing nothing to stop it.

\--

Birds were chirping, as a voice whispered his name harshly.

“_Snape_! Severus, _Severus_!”

A hand shook him gently, at first, but when no reply or response was given, it became more of an urgent thrust. 

“_Snape_!”

Severus finally opened his black eyes, the bags around them just as dark as their pupils, as he slowly sat up to address the person who felt it was necessary to wake him from the little slumber he gets. When he finally rubbed the sleep from his eyes, the person before him came into focus.

A shirtless man, scars running across his pale chest. His trousers were old, patchy with sewed up holes. His eyes lingered on the body before going to the face, his brain still chilled from the night, defrosting and processing.

Severus gulped. 

Remus Lupin. The brightest teal eyes he had ever seen, two long scars ran across his face, one was right over his nose and the other under his left eye. Brown stubble and the start of a mustache made the man look scruff. He held his shirt and cloak in his hand, they looked torn and shredded.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Lupins whisper was filled with concern.


	2. Chapter 2

Aberforth bought the two mugs of warm butterbeer to the eighteen year old boys, eyeing both up with equal suspension but for very different reasons. He left them to talk, but his eyes wouldn’t gaze far from them.

A warmth ran through Severus as he clasped the hot glass in his palms. He stared into the fuzzy butterbeer, watching the hot bubbles burst and shrink. He let out a sigh, shrinking into the booth seat.

Lupin cleared his throat, the air was tense around them. He peered at Severus with a sense of curiosity. “Why were you asleep on the bench?”

“Straight to the questions, huh? I suppsoe you weren;t one to beat around the bush at school either.” Severus snapped, eyes narrowed as he finally looked up, his sight lingered only on the scars. “Why were you in the station?” he changed the subject quickly.

“I was coming back from the shack,” He muttered, voice quieter, a whisper. It wouldn’t be wise to reveal a curse like Lycanthropy within such a shady bar. "I've answered your question, now answer mine?" The suggestion had an underlining insistence to it. 

Severus frowned, the cogs of his brain turning. "Missed my train home, decided to gave a nap whilst I waited for the next one." He said, the lie a simple one. "Where's your mutt--"

A bag of coins was dropped on the table, landing with a loud, weighted thud. A man stood in front of their table, looming above them, his shadow blocking the candle light. The man was tall and bulky, a large bear. His small eyes ran over Remus with a hunger, before he turned to Sev. "Room 3. Bring your friend with you for extra coin," He grunted and turned, leaving to the rented rooms above the bar.

The silence between Remus and Severus was thick. Severus gulped, taking a sip of his warning brew of beer, mouth suddenly dry.

Remus stared at the coins long and hard, he was a smart lad; quick to connect the dots. "You don't need to do this, Snape." He reached forwards. Severus expected him to grab the coins but instead those scarred hands gently grabbed his thin, nimble fingers instead. Remus held his hand, his palm soft and gentle, a silent request to Severus; _Don't go. Don't do this. _

"I must be getting to work," Severus pulled his hand back sharply, touched starved and repulsed all at once. The bag of coins was safely deposited into his pocket with the coins from the night before.

Remus watched with sorrow filled with eyes as Severus climbed the stairs to attend to his client. He sighed into his drink, a few wifts of steam floating up.

Aberforth approached slowly, picking up Severus's abounded cup as he ran a rag over where it was once stood. "Hes homeless, ya know, like you." He grumbled under his breath.

"And you let him get used like this, in your own bar?" Remus bit back a growl, voice cold and judgemental.

"I don' like it, ye know. But I cannot stop me' own customers doing as they see fit. Besides, half of em' come for him, sometimes," He murmured, a frown on his old weathered face. 

"Glad to know you like using vulnerable teens as piggy banks." Remus' eyes narrowed into a glare. He downed his drink, slamming the mug onto the table. He left without tipping.


End file.
